


Sink Into Me

by louciferish



Series: YOI tumblr shorts [10]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Intercrural Sex, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 23:03:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17212514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louciferish/pseuds/louciferish
Summary: Victor has always been a morning person, but Yuuri needs time to pry his eyes open.





	Sink Into Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadhahvar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadhahvar/gifts).



> In honor of the Purge, I took a few smut-specific prompts on Tumblr recently. Also because in my longer stories I tend to avoid writing sex scenes unless I feel they're needed for the plot. I'm trying to get some practice writing this sort of thing so I don't flinch away from it so much when the story _does_ call for it.
> 
> Rakel submitted the prompt for this, which is: "Lazy winter morning intercrural, Victuuri, after they've been dating for a few years/or married. Bonus points if it's too cold to bother getting out of bed, or someone's calf cramps." 
> 
> I missed the calf cramp points, but I think I got the rest. XD

Yuuri wakes to the warmth of Victor wrapped around him, spooned up behind his body to match edges like the twin pieces of a broken plate, and to the fluttering press of kisses scattered across his shoulders. The bed is so warm, flannel sheets and down enveloping him in a full-body cocoon, but there’s a chill prickling at the exposed places on his neck. 

His thoughts are still cottony, and he squirms to press his face into the pillow, eyes screwed tightly closed. Victor pauses at the movement, _dobroe utro_ muttered into his skin. Words are still beyond his reach, but Yuuri makes a grumbling noise of assent, and Victor tries to scoot closer in response, his fingers tracing a gentle path over Yuuri’s chest as he resumes the careful placement of kisses.

Victor’s morning erection is pressed firmly to the base of Yuuri’s spine, and his hips rock in gentle rhythm with his caresses. He touches Yuuri with care, not cautious but tender. Victor has always been a morning person, but Yuuri needs time to pry his eyes open.

The hand on Yuuri’s chest drifts to his stomach, pinky finger toying with the elastic band of his boxers, and Yuuri whines. “It’s too early for sex,” he grumbles, his words devoured by the pillow pressed against his cheek. “Sleepy.”

Victor’s hand stops, then begins to withdraw, but Yuuri catches his wrist before it can leave. “You don’t have to stop,” he says, turning his head to make sure he’s heard. He opens his eyes a bit, lids still heavy with sleep. “Just… don’t expect much from my corner right now.”

“Da,” Victor murmurs, rubbing his cheek on Yuuri’s shoulder as he nods. His early stubble scrapes at the skin, rough as a cat’s tongue, and Yuuri shivers. 

Kisses resume, now moving from his shoulders and back and venturing to his neck, the knot of his spine, the corner of his jaw. Victor traces the line from Yuuri’s navel to his chest, feeling the separation in his muscles, trained and ready for his upcoming competitions. His index finger brushes over Yuuri’s nipple almost incidentally, but lingers when Yuuri jerks against him again, sensation sparking through him at the touch.

As in everything, Yuuri’s reaction provokes a matching response. Gentle caresses firm as Victor rocks against him, rubbing his cock against Yuuri’s back, his tailbone, the head hot as a brand where it presses against bare skin. Victor’s hand grips Yuuri’s hip, holding him fiercely. “Up for more?” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri groans, torn between his options. He wants Victor, _of course_ he wants Victor, but his mind is still a balloon, lost among the clouds and tethered to his body by only the thinnest thread. He’s not ready to come back to Earth just yet.

Victor’s hand slides down, gliding over the curve of Yuuri’s ass, and a questioning finger runs along the seam of his thighs. “Can I-?” he begins, but Yuuri is already nodding, his heart leaping at the question. When Yuuri falters, Victor always finds a way to meet him.

“Yes,” he whispers, and in case it wasn’t clear enough: “ _Please._ ”

Victor’s teeth catch against Yuuri’s shoulder when he chuckles. “The lube is on your side.”

Yuuri stretches, feeling stiff joints and sore muscles protest at the movement and the weather as he grasps for the bottle on his nightstand. The plastic is freezing cold, and he wrinkles his nose at the thought of that touching his skin, but brings the bottle with him as he withdraws back into the shelter of Victor’s arms, shying away from the icy side of the sheets.

He can hear the snap of the lid and waits, anticipation rousing him from his lethargy. Then Victor’s slick hand is tugging at his boxers, running down his thigh, molding Yuuri into the shape he desires, on and off the ice. Yuuri shivers, more at the thought than the touch, and then he feels Victor’s cock, hot and wet and making a home between the press of Yuuri’s thighs, and his head falls back against Victor’s shoulder, eyes closed as he zeros in on the sensation.

Without his sense of sight to distract him, he falls into a world of Victor - Victor’s breath stuttering against his ear; sucking kisses and nibbles on Yuuri’s neck, his shoulder, the sweet spot right at the curve of his jaw that always makes Yuuri whine, clawing at the sheets. It’s all too much, and he can’t resist his own need, reaching down to wrap his hand around his own urgent erection.

Victor gasps when he does, spurred on by the movement of Yuuri’s hips. “Yuuri.” His voice catches, a hint of a whine - lips against the back of Yuuri’s neck like Victor is mouthing the words to his favorite song. 

Victor is always a talker when he’s like this - a constant stream of breathy, muttered Russian that Yuuri still doesn’t entirely understand, cut through again and again with his name and sung to the beat of Victor’s own thrusts. Yuuri flexes his thighs while he can focus enough to do so and listens to Victor whimper, beyond words as he moves frantically, gripping Yuuri’s hipbone for leverage until he cums, slicking the insides of Yuuri’s thighs.

Turning his head to catch the corner of Victor’s mouth with his own, Yuuri moans as Victor’s fist slides down his cock, wet with a mixture of lube and his own cum, and soon Yuuri is the one whimpering. Victor’s touch collides with the image of his filthy hand wrapped around Yuuri, and the combination is overwhelming. He throws his head back, eyes closed tight as Victor’s hand works him over until his legs are trembling uncontrollably. 

Yuuri cums with his hand over his mouth, muffling his own shout as Victor sucks yet another mark just above his collarbone. He gasps for air, heart racing, and Victor only curls his arm tighter around Yuuri, heedless of the mess he’s smearing across Yuuri’s skin. 

Long minutes tick by, lit by only the sound of Yuuri’s harsh breathing and the gradually slowing beat of his heart. He interlaces his fingers with Victor’s, wrinkling his nose at the sticky sensation. 

“That’s one way to get me wake up,” Yuuri laughs, only to feel Victor nuzzle into his shoulder, his breath puffs against Yuuri’s skin, deep and even, and Yuuri sighs. He’s alert now, aware of the fluids drying on his skin and the quiet whine of Makka in the other room, waiting on her breakfast, but-

He squeezes Victor’s hand and nestles deeper into the sheets. The day can wait a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://louciferish.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/louciferish)


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